


Not a Model Citizen

by snarechan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Amicitia Week 2018, Family, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Fashion & Couture, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 21:51:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18374768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: Iris is a fashionista in a world of casuals and dorkuses.





	Not a Model Citizen

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Amicitia Week (2018), Day One: “You are NOT leaving the house dressed like that!” (situational). This was posted during the original run of the event, but I wanted to edit it proper before archiving it here on AO3.
> 
> Beta Read by Glyphenthusiast (GoreCorset/CorsetJinx). My thanks for the assist!

Iris couldn't keep still. If Gladiolus wasn't accustomed to her quirks, she might have worried that her brother would complain about all her wriggling (although she would’ve told him to _stuff it_ ). For twenty minutes she'd jostled her leg, waiting and _waiting_ for their father to finish dressing himself for the political meal tonight. Admittedly, she was more nervous than excited.

Rarely were invitations extended to Gladiolus, who was first-born and active in the Lucian military besides; and rarer still was _she_ allowed to go. But the royal family was hosting a feast at the Citadel for the Council and their families, for reasons Iris had forgotten. A lot of older folks she only knew from a distance or their stuck up kids she _unfortunately_ knew from private school would be there. But Noctis would also be in attendance, so maybe it wouldn't be a total bust.

At least Iris had an excuse to dress up. Since it was supposed to be a lighthearted affair, she wasn't required to wear a constrictive uniform. Their father had even gifted her pocket money to purchase some makeup. What Iris couldn't scrounge up her friends were more than excited to share, helping her to apply it. The attention had been nice and wearing makeup went a long way in making her feel better about being surrounded by so many important grownups.

Iris tried not to smudge the hard work of her friends as she plopped her chin on her hand. She eyed the clock and then the stairs, where their father had yet to descend. "What's taking him so looong?"

"Give him a minute; not as if he started sprucing up since this morning, like you did." Gladiolus didn't glance up from reading his magazine. It was the recent Coleman catalogue. Some of the corners were dog-eared where he'd bookmarked them for later.

She made an indignant noise at her brother's snide remark. "Well I guess it's good that _he's_ putting in some effort!"

Gladiolus had really taken the 'casual' part the most literally. His suit was custom fitted, as most of his clothes needed to be once he started bulking up in the Crownsguard, but it was simplified. His slacks and matching suit jacket, which he'd tossed over the back of the sofa, were a dull, charcoal in color. His shirt was black, the sleeves rolled up and most of the top buttons undone. Aside from the way he'd styled his hair (and _not_ his goatee, which remained rugged around the edges) it didn't seem as if he'd put any consideration into his appearance.

"What? I sprayed some cologne on," he disputed.

"Is _that_ what stinks in here?" Iris asked.

"Children, enough," their father said, finally ready and coming down the stairs to join them. There wasn't any heat to his words as he concentrated on adjusting his cufflinks. Their silence startled their father to attention more than the continued arguing would have. He stopped on the last step, realizing they were gaping at him. "Is something the matter?"

"You are _not_ leaving the house dressed like that!" Iris snapped, aghast, over the sounds of Gladiolus bursting into laughter. She shot to her feet, both hands balled into fists at her sides. It took everything Iris had not to stomp her foot on top of her reaction.

Their father paused, reevaluating his attire. It was a paisley ensemble in shades of silver. _Shiny_ shades of silver. In the low lighting of their living room, the dinner jacket managed to reflect every bit of it and almost blinded them. The look was compounded by the garish, platinum lining. "I don't understand. I was assured this look was on trend with today's fashion scene?"

"By who? The salesman at Dorky Dads Plus?" Iris asked.

Her brother hadn't stopped cackling. At her question, Gladiolus threw back his head and covered his eyes with a hand. Their father glared at the spectacle, bringing his jacket closer around himself. "Stop it, both of you! It can't possibly be as bad as you're making it out to be."

"Good evening, your car has arrived." By some chance Jared entered the room during the middle of all this. Gladiolus calmed down somewhat, allowing their housekeeper to address them. He bowed to their father respectfully. "Ah, is that the suit you settled on? A fine choice, Sir. It reminds me of a set I owned in my youth. That was very 'chic' back in the day."

Clarus pinched the bridge of his nose as Gladiolus was sent into another round of hysterics. Their father admitted, "Alright, perhaps there is some room for improvement…"

"Come on," Iris said with a huff. She walked over and took their father by the hand, leading him back upstairs to his private quarters. "I'll help you this time! I promise you'll be the best dressed man there. All the lady Council members won't be able to keep their hands off you."

"Do you believe anything can be salvaged?" their father asked dryly. Iris looked over her shoulder and eyed him critically. His tie and burnished shoes were a solid black. She told him those could stay. The rest would be smelted down later, although their father didn't need to know that.

"Shall I inform the driver that you will be a couple minutes more?" Jared called after them.

"Tell'em to make a couple passes around the block. Those two might be awhile," Gladiolus said in Iris' and Clarus' stead, using the magazine to fan his face as it'd become quite red. An hour later, after their father's makeover, her brother's cheeks were still colored from how boisterous he'd been.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [writing blog on Tumblr](http://snaurus.tumblr.com/) for more content or [come say hi to me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/snaurus)!


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